The Devilish Daemon
by MissieCeelee
Summary: You all know Draco Malfoy, honored heir to the Malfoy fortune. However, what you don't know is that Draco Malfoy isn't entirely...human. Follow our Slytherin Prince as he stumbles through his newly found Daemonhood, dealing with decisions, good, evil and even...mating! Starts 6th year, slight AU bits. Safely T for dark themes, some lust and intense love. Please R&R, thank you!
1. Family Histories

**The Devilish Daemon**

By MissieCeelee

* * *

Chapter 1:

_Family Histories_

* * *

The house was cold and unwelcome as always, just as the owners preferred it.

Albino peacocks strutted the lawn, proud as ever, acting similarly to the master of the property. The stone mansion stood firm and brooding, seeming to dare cowards to enter through the wrought iron gates and stumble onto the foreboding premises. Distantly, a wolf howled, as if sensing the danger and sorrow in the cool, night air. From inside the marble mansion walls, another noise rose up to fraternize with that of the canine howl; the angered sounds of a quietly ranting adolescent permeated through the air, originating from somewhere in the sitting room area. The room itself was regal and pristine; no pillows went unfluffed, no fireplace was left unlit, and no hair was left misplaced.

That is, except for the hairs that resided on the head of Draco Malfoy, heir to the fine manor.

The youth sat upon a luxurious leather sofa, his head in his pale hands and those pale hands intertwined with his equally pale blond hair. He looked possibly ill, though that was not the case.

As he spoke, his voice held an immense amount of shock and anger;

"What of pureblood supremacy? Are we really not even above the filthy Mudbloods that I've been taught to hate since the day I was born?"

A man that bore a striking resemblance to the boy laughed haughtily from an armchair, causing his whitening hair to ripple down his shoulders. "Draco," his voice was icy cold, despite his previous laughter. "I am many things, dear, _dear_ boy, but I am _not_a hypocrite. We bear more magical blood than any others. Why, we are the last surviving branch of-"

Draco didn't seem to care whether or not a branch survived. "Father, if we are not even fully human, how can-"

"Silence."

Knowing his father well enough, the teenager shut his mouth, recognizing the deathly tone at once.

"You _shall_ listen to me, Draco Lucius Malfoy, and _you shall do as I say_. In all of our well traced history, Daemonhood has been a large factor in the Malfoy family's many success, and it shall not stop with you. Ungrateful as you are, you are not yet able to see the astounding gift that has been bestowed upon you by birth; I myself curse the fact that Daemonhood skips every generation, as _you_will probably not be able to live up to your full potential," Lucius smirked, eying Draco as he gritted his teeth.

The paternal figure lowered his slippery voice to a harsh whisper. "The Dark Lord would greatly like to utilize your skills when they arrive, and I intend for him to use you to any means necessary. The Malfoys will survive the up and coming war, and you have no say in the matter. Now, _have I made myself clear_?"

Draco, trapped, simply nodded, mumbling a hasty, "Yes, Father."

"Good."

The man of ice got up and left the sitting room, his long robes dashing out behind him as if they were afraid to make contact with the man; it made sense. The robes would have been foolish if they were not terrified, as Lucius was not a man to be trifled with. As his father's footsteps faded down the corridor, the throbbing pain from before seemed to engulf all of Draco's body, spurred on by his current state of anger.

Before he knew it, he found himself once again on his knees, head to the carpet to try to rid himself of the horrible nausea and burning in his brain. After what seemed like an eternity, the flames seemed to spread into his jaw, dancing along his teeth in a twisted game of pain and drawing a groan of misery from the suffering boy. Suddenly, he felt quite normal, though his mouth was still quite sore.

Draco rose, thinking that the crippling transformation was over for the time being and wanting to make it to his room before the next bout. However, just as he stretched his shoulders, his entire torso began aching, begging, screaming for relief. The pain was so much that tears streamed down the poor fellow's face as a shout of pure agony was expelled from his crushed lungs.

Draco was discovered half an hour later in the very same position by a horrified house elf named Knobby; he was entirely unconscious, and looked quite worse for wear. As the elf brought Draco to his room, she noticed something quite peculiar about the boy. His teeth appeared to be elongated, muscles larger, and his back appeared very swollen.

"Master Draco be transforming, Master is," Knobby whispered to no one in particular.

* * *

He felt like he'd been hit by the Knight Bus multiple times as he awoke to find himself in his room. Weary and wounded, the trooper sat up slowly, feeling quite light headed.

"Master Draco! Master is awake! How does Master feel?"

The squeaky voice startled the out-of-it teen until he realized it was his personal elf, Knobby. His voice extremely raw and rough, he asked, "Knobby, is this the transformation?"

Knobby nodded eagerly. "Yes, Master. Knobby found Master in the sitting room. Knobby was very worried, but Master will be okay. Master Lucius told Knobby that the process is very painful, but Master Draco will be fine within a few hours."

She kindly dabbed a cool cloth on his forehead and exposed chest (which puzzled him; how had his shirt been randomly torn off?), very worried for her master.  
"Knobby, bring me a mirror," Draco suddenly demanded.

As the mirror was brought to him, Draco was aghast. His teeth looked similar to those of a vampire; sharp, lethal, the whole package with a bonus of fangs. He poked the end of one of his newly pointed teeth, wincing as it nearly cut into the flesh of his finger. With a raised eyebrow, he slowly inspected the rest of his body, quite impressed with his beefed up muscles. He stretched, eyes closed, rolling his shoulders and groaning at the sensation of relief.

Something soft momentarily tickled his neck, and he opened his eyes to see a pair of wings, black as night, protruding from his shoulder blades. They were covered in small, onyx feathers, and looked like they belonged to an angel of death.

With a gasp, Draco bolted from the bed, nearly causing Knobby to drop the gilded mirror that she'd so obediently been holding. He paid her no heed and ran from the room, wings, fangs and all. His legs seemed to move more lithely and speedily than they ever had, and he found himself in the woods behind the manor in just a few moments.

He dropped to the mossy ground, feeling an overwhelming sense of absolute rage. So, his father had decided to "forget" to divulge any information about this horrifying transformation and leave Draco in the dark? How could a man be so inconsiderate? Oh, and don't forget the impact of his father's decision on his son...

"_The Dark Lord would greatly like to utilize your skills when they arrive, and I intend for him to use you to any means necessary. The Malfoys will survive the up and coming war, and you have no say in the matter."_

The inner rage intensified until Draco felt as though he were about to explode. He took a calming breath, slowly pushing himself off of the moist ground and standing to face the house he'd grown up in. He sneered.

_Oh, really? Maybe I'll just have to take things into my own hands._

His eyes seemed glow a molten silver color and he strode deeper into the forest.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you so much for taking the time to read this! If you could also just send me a quick review to tell me what you're thinking, that'd be so, so appreciated! :D**

**Now, a little bit of information on "The Devilish Daemon." **

**BACKSTORY: So, I used to have another fanfiction account that had a similar story; however, I changed it from a BZ/OC story to a DM/OC story, and also beefed it up...a LOT! So, if you ever were to see another version of this, allow me to inform you that it is both quite outdated and very incomplete.**

**OC: Yes, I'm making an original character specifically for this story! Yay! It's gonna be great! Be prepared!**

**UPDATING: I'm not quite sure about the updating schedule for "The Devilish Daemon," yet. Honestly, I know EVERYONE says this, but positive (and constructive) reviews really DO make me update faster. I've recently been going through a bout of writer's block (oh, how it claims even the best of us!), and this is me, attempting to break out of it.**

**So, please review and add me to your updates list! You won't regret it, I promise you!**

**Toodles!**  
**~MissieCeelee**


	2. What to Expect When You Expect Wings

**The Devilish Daemon**

By MissieCeelee

* * *

_Chapter 2:_

What to Expect when you Expect Wings

**A/N: This chapter pretty much explains the whole rest of this story; make sure you pay extra close attention! More notes at the bottom! Enjoy!**

* * *

_DAEMONHOOD: WHAT TO EXPECT WHEN YOU EXPECT WINGS  
BY PERSEUS ALPHIUS_

Draco nearly groaned at the cheesy pun.

So, the only book he'd managed to get his hands on was written by a non-Daemon? And a corny one, at that? A writer who also seemed to enjoy making horrible puns and spoofs of pregnancy books? Helpful. He blamed his father for not telling him what to expect, and now he had to read this confounded book to find out some basic facts.

Sighing ruefully, the mini Malfoy flipped through the volume, already bored, and only stopped to read certain sections that looked intriguing. As he skimmed, he briefly noted that Daemons could only apparently be male, because it had something to do with the Y chromosome. Actually, scientifically speaking, it appeared that Daemons actually had an extra set of chromosomes. Another section that caught his eye said:

_Daemons are particularly known for their tempers; a good way to tell if a child may eventually reach Daemonhood is if the child displays particular irritability, snobbiness and mainly anger. If a child has a quick temper and Daemon blood runs through your family, you might want to sit him down and give him a chat about "The Birds and the Daemons." When a Daemon reaches adulthood and becomes angered, their eyes usually change into a silvery, hard color (though some cases of other colors have been reported). When this occurs, it is best to avoid any confrontation with said Daemon, or to get the Daemon's mate to try to calm him down (though his mate could also excite him even more, if you get what I mean).  
_  
Draco absorbed all of the information cooly, until he reached the bit about mates, that is.

He swore, flinging the book across his bedroom as he kicked a nearby chair, accidentally reducing it to splinters. Oops-that chair had been _how_ old? Three hundred years? Or was it _four_? Oh, well...

As he barely contained his rage, Draco once again picked up the stupid book, almost ripping the pages apart as he looked for anything about "mates." He stumbled across the phrase a few more times, and it was finally expounded upon at the end of the book.

_Young love; though it is never perfect, it always exists. For Daemons, it doesn't usually pop up until at least three months after their first transformation (anywhere from three months to a year, depending on the individual). However, Daemons have it quite a bit harder than most teenage boys._

Say a Daemon (let's call him Jerry) has known a girl (called June, for explanation's sake) his whole life; Jerry has only entirely platonic feelings toward June, and they are simply friends, never more. However, one day, Jerry suddenly feels extreme, undying attraction for this girl that he's never, ever viewed in a romantic light before. This, my friends, is a fabulous example of Daemon mating.  
  
_Daemons are designed quite well, but mating is one of their fatal flaws. Once a Daemon finds his mate, he will do anything and everything for her, and ceases to concentrate on himself. Of course, some may view this as romantic, but it is, in reality, extremely impractical, because of possibly unrequited love. If a Daemon has found his mate and she doesn't love him back, the Daemon cannot function normally in everyday life._

If a Daemon is denied his mate, he becomes quite a savage monster. If a Daemon doesn't receive the consensual "okay" from his mate by the time he turns seventeen (unless his original transformation was delayed...see page 394 for details), bad things happen. Always in his Daemonic state, a rejected Daemon will go away from civilization entirely and move to unoccupied areas (they are known to be particularly fond of the woods), preying on the local wildlife similarly to a werewolf or rouge vampire.  
  
The Daemon currently reading that section put his head in his hands, completely disgusted that he hadn't known these things. Who in their right mind wouldn't tell their own son such important details? Each new fact he read made Draco ever more hateful toward his father, and the resentment seemed to be filling up his "Dam of Patience" quite efficiently.

Draco decided to take a walk to clear his muggy head.

* * *

The wings were a permanent fixture on a Daemon's back; the book had gone deeper into the mechanics of things, but all Draco really wanted to do was learn how to use the things.

_Alright, not a problem. Let's do this!_ He thought optimistically, climbing a very spiral staircase to the mansion's roof. How hard can it be? Just a bit of flapping here and there, that's all.

Oh, how wrong our poor Daemon was!

The ground had never been a less welcomed sight. For there, as Draco foolishly dove from the shingled roof top, he had never felt like more of an idiot in his entire life.

He fell, and fell, and fell, and fell, and fell. The wings strapped on his back felt like the most useless thing poor Draco had ever encountered; they simply weighed him down even more, propelling him even faster toward the hard ground. Our young Malfoy closed his eyes, just waiting for his upcoming, impending death.

_What a great way to end both the Malfoy and the Daemon lines,_ the boy thought, both highly sarcastic and highly terrified.

Suddenly, all of the motion around him stopped, and he felt himself lying on the ground. Afraid of what he might find, Draco slowly cracked open an eyelid. Now, the sight was quite shocking...and not in a horrible way at all! Why, after falling at least a hundred feet from the roof, there was hardly even a scratch on the Daemon's body. Completely baffled, Draco quickly sprinted back to his room (in a very dignified manner, mind you), picking up the seemingly factless book in hope of an explanation.

And he found just the information on page 45.

_A Daemon has a very toned down nervous system compared to humans; why, it can be said that they've "got no feelin' 'eart in 'em," quite frankly! Daemons' nerve receptors pick up all of the same signals, but do not seem to transport pain messages as easily, thus making them up to four times as resistant to pain as humans. Their bones and muscle are also much more durable and tough. Why, if a human falls from a tower, they end up KER-SPLAT on the ground. A Daemon, however, could most likely walk away with a few broken bones, maximum. The reasoning behind this quite sensible; a Daemon is much more likely to be falling from the sky...they _do_ have wings, after all!  
_  
He shook his head, still quite stunned. Feelings of both amazement and excitement began to wash over him as he thought about his new found strength and the freedom it could give him.

_Maybe I won't have to yield to my father anymore...maybe I can get out of this cult somehow...  
_  
With those unheard of thoughts, Draco decided that he had to find his godfather.

* * *

**A/N: Yay! Chapter two! I'd like to thank my first (and only thus far) reviewer, BlueDragon22! Thanks for reviewing, it means a lot! **

**Please review! I must apologize for the lack of romance thus far; Draco IS just getting into the whole Daemon thing, after all. Next chapter shall blow your minds with love, I promise! The whole mating thing? Yeah, it's coming, bro! :D**

Hasta luego!  
~MissieCeelee


	3. Give 'Em Hale

**The Devilish Daemon**

By MissieCeelee

* * *

_Chapter 3:_

Give 'Em Hale

* * *

_**Super duper quick author's note**: I would just like to thank and respond to my lovely new reviewers so far! Thank you so much! You can simply read on if you haven't reviewed...oh, and please do! :)_

_RavenclaWriter: Thanks for suggesting those stories; I'm glad you find mine interesting! I actually think I've already read the veela one (and I probably enjoyed it), but I'll be sure to check them out! Thanks for your review!_

_RavenIvy: You'll find out in this chapter! Read on to find out, dear! Thanks for reviewing!_

_RachelGoesRawr: You'll meet his mate here! I'm glad you like it! Thank you!_

_Also, a huge thanks to the four people who added me to their alerts list! Thanks so much!_

* * *

Bernadette Hale sat in her inherited mini cooper, eyes closed and a deep sigh finding its way past ernest lips.

"_I really don't believe that school is starting now...it's impossible!_" was the main thought that ran through her muddled brain. _Yet another year of the same, intolerable class with the same, immature guys that won't go for me any which way! Just kill me now, please..._

As she barely resisted the urge to bash her brains out, Bernadette pulled out of the driveway cautiously; the pristine community surrounding her seemed almost spiteful with its cheerfulness and well-groomed lawns, oblivious to the turmoil that awaited the girl.

Bedford Hills was a lovely township. It was one of the "richer" areas outside of Boston, Massachusetts, but as they say, "The richer the parents, the dumber the offspring."

Actually, most people didn't say that...it was mainly just Bernadette, but she _did_occasionally swap "offspring" with "spawn" or "heirs."

Many things could be said of Bernadette, but she was not repetitive.

Basically, it appeared evident to her that when a child was raised by well-off parents, the likelihood of spoiled brats went up exponentially. It also seemed that about half of said brats attended Northpoint, the same private school as yours truly.

Everyone in Bedford Hills had to have a good amount of money to live there, including the Hale family. And though she'd been dealt the same card as nearly every other kid around her, she'd been raised to appreciate life and be prepared for the future, putting her allowances and money toward useful things like college, and she had enough life skills to be able to hold down a good job.

Whereas nearly all of the pigheaded teens she knew just _had_ to wear all brand name clothing, Bernadette was content to wear the exact same clothes with the exact same quality from lesser known brands. Heck, if she really cared (which she really didn't), it wouldn't be hard to simply glue a logo here or sew a logo there; really, nobody would be able to tell the difference. But, of course, in Bedford Hills, everything was cash-centric, meaning that the "top dogs" were the people who not only _looked _the richest, but _acted_ the richest.

That said, it didn't come as a great shock that our dear girl was essentially invisible.

Why, that very day, she was dressed in a simple pair of dark, skinny jeans; a long, flowing tank top with faded floral patterns; an old, well-worn pair of blue Toms shoes; and a simple gray sweater to top it all off. No Aeropostale or Hollister sign was in sight, which is just how she preferred it, thank you oh so very much.

The school parking lot seemed to be the exact opposite; the excited, reuniting teens all wore similar ensembles, Bernadette observed with a shake of my head. Each of the guys seemed to be sporting expensive khaki shorts and Aeropostale shirts with hardly any variation from person to person.

The girls looked extremely well groomed with their hair either curled or straightened to perfection and their feminine getups that were all quite revealing. She realized once more that uniforms might be a nice idea as she watched the grisly scene from her car.

She quickly checked her appearance in her mirror; her chocolate brown shoulder length hair was still delightfully bed-headed and carefully messy, just as she preferred. Her blue eyes were rimmed with black liner, and her mascara was holding up quite well. The few freckles that spattered her face were still there, but she'd finally accepted the fact.

With a sigh, she began her ascent into doom. Lost in a mini cooper in a lot full of highly expensive BMW's and possibly some Ferrari's, the girl slowly grabbed her nondescript bag and cracked open the car door.

Thankfully, though it was expected, she was not close enough to the other kids to be smothered by the cloying scent of Hollister perfume and Axe that they all seemed to reek of (she herself preferred wearing a lighter, vanilla scent, thus alienating herself even further).

She was already rather sick of the school, even without having stepped foot in the building.

_Oh, what I wouldn't give for a vampire to attend Northpoint-maybe he'd go ballistic and kill off the preps...that I would pay to see.  
_  
Speaking of preps, a flurry of activity arose from the prep pod and pulled her from her slightly morbid thoughts as she approached the school. Ah, she certainly recognized the crazed look on the girls' faces as they peered across the pavement, cackling like hyenas.

_Ugh, a new guy? Who even cares anymore? They're all carbon copies of each other, anyway...no, thank you...  
_  
Quickly, she headed to the office to retrieve her schedule from the frazzled woman behind the desk. After a quick "thank you" that was hardly even noticed, Bernadette moved back into the gray hallway to inspect her list of classes, her shoes scuffing on the linoleum as she went.

Suddenly, a figure appeared in front of her, and, like the most_ cliché_romance novel ever, she went down. However, what the authors of romance novels fail to discuss is just how painful the situation can be.

Her voice met with another, lower one, simultaneously yelling "OWW!" as they toppled over.

Bernadette laid there for a few moments, trying to catch her breath and rub her now sore shoulder with a groan.

Whoever had crashed into her was now on his feet; a hand came into her line of vision, and she took it.

The boy who'd literally knocked her off her feet helped her up, and she took in his appearance.

He was very tall and had a plethora of freckles across his milky cheekbones. Eyes the color of the bluest ocean observed her back, roving over her face quickly as a slight smile stretched his face. Red hair fell across his forehead, looking a bit disheveled but none too worse for wear.

_Wow...he's...wow.  
_  
Bernadette realized that she was still gawking at the poor stranger, so she shook her head minutely and smiled back at him, finally realizing that he was saying something.

"-so sorry! I seem to have stepped right into your way!"

His voice was deep and completely American, but it still hinted at an accent of some sort.

"It's totally okay; I'm pretty clumsy, and I was too preoccupied," she apologized.

He shook his head. "No, no, it's my fault. I'm awfully sorry. Are you sure you're alright?"

"Entirely fine! I'm just a little confused; I haven't seen you around here before."

Now, what you must know about Bernadette is that the previous sentence was a total stretch out of her comfort zone; for Bernadette hardly ever talked to boys, being too self conscious and awkward-in her opinion.

However, something about this boy just felt...different. A strange air hung about him, but it wasn't strange in a repulsing sense at all; she actually felt pulled toward this guy...

Anyway, he laughed lightly. "Yes, I'm new. I'm Fred, by the way, Fred Weasley."

"Weasley? That's an interesting last name. I'm Bernadette Hale, but most people call me Detta, and I prefer it."

It could've just been her imagination, but Fred's eyes seemed to widen just a little bit at the mention of her name, but the change in his expression was gone after she blinked.

"It's very nice to meet you, then, Berna-I mean, Detta."

"Likewise, Fred."

Voices pleasantly cheery, Detta and Fred began chatting about their lives in general; she was quite content to find that he was also going into his junior year.

"How many siblings did you say you have, again?" Detta questioned, disbelieving.

He smiled. "Six...I know, pretty crazy, right?"

"It's not too bad, I guess," she said agreeably, not wanting to hurt his feelings. "I'm sure you're used to it by now."

"Mhmm..." he trailed off, his eyes going a bit unfocused.

As they reached their homeroom, their teacher, Mrs. Short, gave them alphabetically assigned seats, much to the chagrin of the newly found friends.

With an over exaggerated bow, Fred grabbed up her hand and placed a sloppy kiss to the back of it. Bernadette blushed with all of her might, and Fred winked.

"Farewell, fair maiden! We shall meet again forthwith!"

* * *

A/N: Sooo...I know what you're thinking...

"FRED WEASLEY? WHY IS HE IN A MUGGLE SCHOOL AND WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON? HOW IS BERNADETTE EVEN RELATED TO DRACO AT ALL? WHAAA-?"

To be found out in the next chapter, loves! Please review and tell me what you think! Thanks so much for reading!

Happily,  
~MissieCeelee


	4. Order's Orders

**The Devilish Daemon**

By MissieCeelee

* * *

_Chapter 4:_

Order's Orders

* * *

The hidden place that had been frequented by many of his ancestors appeared between houses 13 and 11, dark and slightly dilapidated, but bringing him a hope for a new future...not that he'd ever admit that to anyone.

"You're sure, Mr. Malfoy?" Moody's gruff voice sounded to his left.

He sneered, crossing his arms. "No, I came to my _greatest enemy_ to offer my assistance when I could so easily get _murdered_ by one of the _darkest wizards of all time_ for treason, and I'm _not sure_if I want to do it."

As he stepped forward, the older wizard suddenly had Draco's arms pinned with merely a grunt. Draco was aware that he could easily use his newfound strength to dismember the foolish Order member, but he held back the anger that bubbled up and allowed Moody to grumble into his ear.

"The sarcasm is not appreciated, Malfoy. If you wish to make it out of the inevitable war alive and with a chance at a decent life, you will not play these silly games." The once sort-of-professor's voice never wavered, but it held a note of extreme seriousness. "I don't care if you have all of the Daemon powers in the known world at your fingertips, because I will not tolerate any deviation on your end of the bargain. If you ever foolishly decide to go back on your decision, I will not hesitate to kill you to protect our secrets...you wouldn't be the first, believe me."

Moody released Draco and strode up to the front door without a backwards glance. Draco brushed off his clothing and followed, taking in the weathered, looming building with a sense of nervousness.

He walked right into an extremely tense situation; the entryway was filled with shouts of indignation as Draco made his appearance. A middle aged man stood in a doorway at the end of the corridor, looking on unmovingly as Moody tried to say something to him. Draco knew that this worn man was somewhat aggravated at his presence, and that he'd better say something to save him from the vengeance of "the light side."

He cleared his throat, but no one took heed of the small noise in the midst of this mini uproar. After he repeated the process multiple times, then decided to whistle shrilly to capture their attention. As some Order members clasped hands over their ears and swore, others turned their glares upon the youngest member of the Malfoy clan. He stepped into the kitchen, avoiding the man who stood by the doorframe.

"I know I'm not welcome here, so I'll make this brief. In just a few month's time, I will be initiated into the Death Eater's ranks, something that has been planned since my birth and something that I would not wish upon my worst enemies." Draco coughed slightly, looking at the floorboards. "I've recently discovered that I am of Daemon descent, and the Dark Lord wants to exploit that to its full ability. I wasn't given another choice; I will be killed if I choose not to join the Dark Lord, and, although I am of Malfoy heritage, I don't agree with the choices that have been made for me. I want to do what's right, and I believe that the best course would be to help the Order and be a spy, much like Severus."

A gruff man sitting at the end of the table was astonished and livid. "How you you know about Snape, you filthy-"

Draco calmly interrupted. "He just so happens to be my godfather, and he is the one who suggested I join forces with you."

The silence was entirely stifling. Each of the people around the table seemed to be struggling with the choice of whether or not to trust Draco, and he, for one, couldn't blame them. If he put himself in their shoes, it would be like Potter approaching him and asking to join the Death Eaters, really...

A woman with bright pink hair finally piped up. "Well, I believe him!" She approached Draco, sticking out a hand for a shake. "I'm Tonks, your cousin. Nice to finally meet you."

His eyebrows furrowed. "Are you-are you Aunt Andromeda's daughter?"

"The one and only!" She was cheerful, but a hint of sadness crept onto her face at the mention of her disowned mother. "It's too bad we haven't met before now; it would've been fun to have a little cousin to play with, eh?"

He nodded, luke-warming up to this complete stranger as much as any Malfoy could.

Someone other than Draco scoffed, which came as a surprise to the youth (he _was_the master of scoffing, after all). Draco made eye contact with an unknown man that was shaking his head in disbelief, his dark eyes following the Malfoy heir.

"I'm sorry," he said with a slight laugh. "I just can't believe that _the_ Draco Malfoy, son of known Death Eaters, heir of the Malfoy family fortune and with one of the darkest family histories ever, could ever come to _us_and offer his assistance. There must be some kind of loophole; unless you use veritaserum, I won't be convinced."

Mumbles of agreement rose up from around the well-worn table.

"You okay with this, boy?" Moody gruffed, unsure.

With a similar grunt, Draco nodded, hoping that this would be enough to convince these doubters. The clear liquid was brought out in an old, secondhand flask.

After taking a wary sniff of the substance, he put it to his lips cautiously and took a small sip.

Draco expected everyone to go wild and ask him a cacophony of embarrassing questions, but it was obvious that Moody was in charge of the interrogation process.

"Alright, Malfoy, ready?"

With a gulp, Draco nodded slightly at the gruff man, trying to avoid his whizzing eye.

"How did you find out about the Order?"

Not hesitating at all, Draco replied, "My godfather, Severus Snape. He knew about my Daemonhood and rightfully came to the conclusion that I wasn't pleased about it. After swearing me to secrecy, he told me just a little bit about what he does for you, and I thought it would be a good idea to join up as well."

"Does your father know where you are? Does anyone?"

"No one, save Severus, knows I'm here. I told my parents I was going to Knockturn Alley."

"Why do you want to join us?"

"Mostly because I want to show my parents that I'm not their little pawn, but I also believe that this is the right thing to do." Draco was a bit annoyed at his utter honesty (made him sound like a ruddy pansy, afterall), but if it was the only way to prove his sincerity, then so be it.

Moody nodded, turning to the others and having a quick, hushed conversation.

"Boxers or briefs?"

Draco turned to see the tired looking man from before. "Boxers."

The man laughed quietly. As he did so, Draco saw just how familiar he looked. He'd definitely seen that face around, but he had no idea as to where.

"I'm Remus Lupin; werewolf, former Dark Art's teacher, pariah of society, et cetera. "

"You taught me in my third year," the boy recalled.

Lupin's face had entirely lost the slight youthful glow; he looked about twenty years older and a whole lot warier.

"Yes, yes, that was me," Lupin threw Draco a wan smile. The man cleared his throat, awkward. "I'm sorry for my coldness to you earlier, by the way. I just was highly suspicious; your auntie just recently killed one of my greatest friends, you know..."

Draco nodded his head, ashamed.

Lupin caught on. "No, it's alright, Draco; entirely not your fault. I was simply suspicious, that's all."

A silence descended upon the duo, long and peaceful. Remus examined the Malfoy heir for quite some time before speaking again.

"You know, Draco, Harry's parents were practically family before they passed away. Harry could very much be my own son." Draco grimaced, expecting a beat down. "Now, I've heard all about you from him...from what I've heard, you sound quite similar to Harry, actually."

To say Draco was shocked out of his mind was an understatement.

"They _do_say that the people you hate the most are usually the most like you...I just hope that you can put your differences behind you now."

Draco could hardly even hold back his snort of laughter

"I kind of doubt that that'll happen anytime soon," the blonde shook his head, amused.

It was Lupin's turn to laugh. "Ah, well, perhaps it will be sooner than later; you see, Harry is here, just upstairs, and he's coming down quite soon."

Suddenly, all of Draco's previous amusement went out the window.

_Great, Saint Potter._

* * *

To say that it was quite awkward was one of the largest understatements of all time.

Saint Potter hadn't said anything worth remembering, as always; he merely looked insanely shocked and aghast, then moodily walked from the room.

The Weasley boy had been...angry. Very, very angry. Why, he'd been so infuriated that he tried to throw himself across the room and attack Draco. He very well would've if Granger hadn't stopped him.

Actually, it surprised Draco greatly that Granger hadn't been the one _attacking_him, nevermind the fact that she held Weasley back like one would an obedient little puppy...a very lovestruck puppy, at that.

His silent question didn't go unanswered; as two-thirds of the Golden Trio walked out, Granger nodded to the doorway as she walked out, obviously suggesting that he follow. With somewhat timid footsteps, he ended up joining her in a large library that smelled of musty volumes and old curtains.

She looked both angered and compassionate, a combination that only a Gryffindor could ever possess; her bushy hair was falling around her, long and golden brown, giving her a frizzy halo that also implied power. Her jaw was set, but her eyes were kind.

_Why are girls so confusing?  
_  
Neither spoke for a moment or so, sizing up the other. Backing down, Granger finally motion the Malfoy to a set of armchairs by an abandoned fireplace, claiming one for herself.

The moment he sat down, she began.

"Malfoy, I'm sure you know that I've never quite..._enjoyed_ your company," she stated, oh so eloquent. "However, I'm willing to bet that if we both tried, we could make this whole situation work out. Now that you seem to have seen the light, I myself am perfectly content putting all of our animosity behind us and starting afresh...and I _might_even want to help you with your whole Daemonhood...thing. It'll be a...peace treaty...of sorts..."

Her posture was stiff and her tone almost stony, but it was very apparent that she felt awkward, avoiding Draco's gaze and instead staring at a singed family tree raptly.

Draco was shocked.

Utterly baffled.

Entirely befuddled.

Completely thrown.

_Why would a Gryffindor-especially _this_ Gryffindor, the one that I used to mock for all the life of me-ever offer to help a Malfoy? There must be a catch...  
_  
"What's the catch?" He skillfully voiced.

"You'll see," she replied mysteriously, standing up and then striding off.

_Ugh, Gryffindors._

* * *

**A/N: OH MY GOSH. LIGHT SIDE DRACO? *dramatic music***

**Pretty cool, right? ^.^**

**Anyway, I very much hope that you liked this chapter; if you could please take the time to tell me what you thought or voice any questions, that'd be just plain spiffy! A special thanks to all of the lovely people that have reviewed thus far (8 reviews total; it's weird though, as some aren't showing up half the time...)! **

**Thanks so much!**

**Love,**  
**~MissieCeelee**


End file.
